


supernova

by Loversarelosers



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 19:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19470178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loversarelosers/pseuds/Loversarelosers
Summary: Maybe he was meant to burn in Tom’s aura.





	supernova

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a plotless introspective fic for this pairing because of the way Jake looks at Tom.

He wakes up to lights streaming in through gap’s in the hotel curtain. Tom is curled against his shoulder and chest, face nestled into his collarbone, half awake. 

Tom’s eyelashes flutter, eyes sleepy as they catch the light. Tom catches him staring, and he smiles, looking at Jake through long lashes. 

That’s the thing with Tom. 23 years old and burning brighter than Jake ever did, ever could. Even at 16, on set for his first movie, a theater geek still in school, doe-eyed and still trying to pull off a facade, he could never master what Tom inherently has. 

Tom shits rainbows and sunshine, he exudes a kind of cute confidence, perfectly bridging youth and awkwardness with the swagger and confidence of a boy becoming a man, this kind of ineffable optimism that allows negative thoughts to be said and yet pass by easily, anxieties and frankness able to be taken lightly. 

It’s with that ease, less of a performance or facade than a developed personality trait, improved as years and movies went by and by and by, the young boy becoming a young man and an adult, a learned confidence that was no longer an act. 

He feels an aching in his chest, an unfounded hint of jealousy and a stronger hint of worry. Confidence and swagger were one thing, the slightest hint of arrogance was another. Annoyance and anxiety and anguish could flicker across Tom’s face, easily passed by but still present. Tom had such an easy personality he could say things that could be taken much, much differently. Maybe people who were too nice for too long bottled everything up until they combusted. 

He remembers how Heath was. Bright and strong and no, Tom isn’t Heath at all, but there’s something there. The swagger isn’t as developed, the darkness isn’t as strong, but Tom has a hint of something in him, an aura that makes Jake hurt. Hurt, like he can feel the memories churn in his head, ever present and bold and strong and he’s someone who deals with emotion, he doesn’t push it aside. He’s not over it, but he’s past the hardest part. The rest is just the daily difficulty. 

Tom’s angelic in the way that things that truly living are. Angels, he knows, are dead. And yet...and yet Tom glows like he’s otherworldly, eyes sharp and soft at the same time and maybe he isn’t an angel, he’s a star. A star, burning so hot for so long and so bright but so dangerous, and one day Tom will be sucked into himself and he’ll die, burning more evidently than ever before. And then he’ll be gone. 

Tears prick at his eyes. The pleasure to know a star, to love a star, is to watch it move and grow and evolve. The pleasure to love a star isn’t to touch or to stare, because stars burn and blind. To love a star is to stay on earth, stay far, far away and observe, love, watch. The privilege is to be in it’s presence, the obligation is to admire, the opportunity is to love and adore. 

Maybe he’s an astronaut, hurtling towards outer space, getting whiplash and his heart is pounding from the thrill, and his destination is ahead and clear but he sees these stars. And he’s drawn into their orbit because he can’t help it, because they burn so bright and he doesn’t burn at all. The heat draws him in and he feels so lost, sometimes, but the light gives him direction in the dark expanse of space. 

Whenever he manages to reach the destination, it’s only a pit stop because he’s got it wrong, he’s got it all wrong, and the destination wasn’t really the destination at all. He feels like he’s chasing the gold at the end of the rainbow, but the rainbow is dark and empty and dangerous and cold, and the gold isn’t actually gold. It’s not a trophy, it’s not an award. He has no idea what it is. 

But the stars distract him, attract him. Heath, Ryan, Tom. Bright and burning and drawing him in, and soon he’s too close, so so close that he could touch, he could, but it would burn. He never touched a star before, he would only glance. 

And as Tom looks at him, bathed in the golden glow of sunlight, actually giving off an aura, Jake wonders if this was his destination all along. Maybe he was always destined to crash and burn in the bright light of someone who would consume themselves. Maybe, just maybe, he got too close this time. 

He never touched a star, until he did. Until this star was too strong, so young and bright and maybe all of this was meant to be. Maybe every road would lead him to a star and maybe he was meant to give in because there’s no way to reach the destination he wants, only the orbits of stars drawing him close until he’s tired of fighting not to reach and touch and hold, until he’s so exhausted and defeated that he gives in. The only way to win is to die in destruction. 

Tom wraps an arm around Jake’s chest, lazily and warmly, and Jake knows Tom sees the tears welling in his eyes and dripping down his cheeks. 

And as Tom wipes away his tears with confusion and comfort and presses a gentle kiss to his lips, he feels warmth like he’s always wanted to. 

Tom is going to sputter out one day, a flaming supernova and then nothingness. 

He knows he’s going to be burned and blinded and destroyed if he doesn’t draw away, if he doesn’t do what he needs to- draw away and only glance, only ache for more. 

Aching is different than burning, but it’s worse, in a way. The burning is so hot that he gets used to it, the warmth a constant comfort even if it hurts. 

Maybe this was his destination all along. 

Maybe it isn’t. 

He’ll probably pull away one day, keep searching in the infinite dark for something he doesn’t understand.

But right now, he knows he’d rather burn too close to destructive power than drift away in the endless dark, directionless.


End file.
